


All Unheard Of

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Swordspoint Series - Ellen Kushner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-19
Updated: 2005-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:08:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1625978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard was uncertain what to make of the boy -- not exactly a scholar, but not anything else either -- but he was too fascinating to ignore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Unheard Of

**Author's Note:**

> Written for treewishes

 

 

The lanky boy -- almost a man, perhaps -- had a scholar's hands and a scholar's robes, but he did not have a scholar's carriage. There was something in him that looked extremely out of place in Riverside, even for a scholar. He drew the eye in a way few absent-minded, scuttling boys, intent on their learning could.

It made him a target even before he opened his mouth and said, in a drawling voice that was not a learned tone, 'I would quite like a drink.'

Richard reevaluated the boy -- if he was, in fact, a boy -- because drinking was certainly a scholarly pursuit, as much as reading. But the single-minded way he went about it, pulling a friend up to the bar and ordering a bottle of wine that was surely out of a student's price range, spoke of some sense that the world owed him.

Riverside was a dangerous place to be for anyone who did not belong, and far worse for someone with a sense of entitlement. It was unlikely that anyone would challenge the not-quite-a-scholar formally -- no work to be had -- but there was something about him that was entirely too fascinating for his own good.

It had only been a few days since Richard's last job, which was to provide a lady's rude suitor with suitable facial scarring to disqualify him from any beauty ranking. That meant he was sufficiently flush to afford the same quality of wine that had put one of the boys into a stupor, wherein he fell asleep a table -- perhaps he really was a student -- and that caused the cheeks of the incongruous one to go a little pink.

He could also save his money and stretch it farther, but that tactic was less likely to win him any affection from charming men.

He was still weighing the pinkness of the not-scholar's cheeks against the weight in his purse when the boy stood up, straight and stiff with that peculiar bearing of the newly drunk, and strode over to one of the tables where men were dicing. 'I want to win your game,' he said.

They sniggered at him, an unpleasant sound. 'All you're like to win is a headache and an empty purse, boy,' one of the grimier of their number said.

'Then you've nothing to lose by letting me play.'

'Go away, child,' another man said.

The lanky boy shook his head. 'I have the same right to lose my money to you as you to me. Why should I?'

'Your face offends me,' a man said, putting his hand on his dagger. Perhaps the interloper could not see the threat from his vantage point, but it was clear to Richard. 'Remove it, or I will move it for you.'

'Such rudeness when all I have done is offer to win. I don't understand you at all.' The lanky man opened his purse.

The man with his hand on his dagger stood up. 'You can lose everything, or you can leave.'

Richard looked at the lanky man again. There was a light of something in his eyes that might be madness, but the flush in his cheeks was hectic, highlighting his fine bones. It wasn't worth Richard's time to champion this child, no matter his purse, but perhaps a different coin could be arranged.

Richard put his hand on his sword and stepped up to the table. 'He'll be leaving with me,' he said, and gave the lanky man a look that, he hoped, conveyed the urgency of getting out of the place.

The light in the man's eyes shifted a little and he smiled. A dangerous smile, that, and a charming one. 'Will I.' He bowed to the men at the table, too suavely for a true student. 'Then it appears, gentlemen, as though I have won some form of gamble in any case.' He turned to Richard and smiled. 'And do you intend to kill me before or after you steal my money?'

'Neither,' Richard said, and put a hand on his shoulder to pull him away from the dice players before they grew irritated again. Under Richard's palm, the man was shaking hard, as if he had had the courage to incite the men, but not enough to follow through with his intentions.

'Then perhaps you've made a bad decision,' the man said, but he left with Richard readily enough.

'They would have taken your money and torn you apart,' Richard said to him.

The man smiled again, and in the moonlight, he seemed neither a boy nor a scholar. 'They would have, but you prevented them. Prevented me, more like. What would you have for your payment, then? My purse is still here, and I can as easily lose it to you as to dice.' His cheeks were still flushed, his lips parted a little as he breathed quickly, his shoulders still taut from his brush with danger.

Richard kissed him. He tasted of good wine. The kissing made him tremble harder and he put a hand on Richard's shoulder. He squeezed, and he shook, and the heat of his mouth was dizzying.

It had been a long while since anyone had blurred Richard's mind in such a way. He was not in the habit of drinking, nor of paying court to madmen or madwomen. But this one, with his out-of-place ways and his soft, quick mouth, was different, somehow. Kissing him was like swordplay, strangely familiar and still dangerous.

It made Richard's blood pound in his ears.

The man pulled away from another kiss and laughed, a low chuckle that made Richard want to hear it again. 'Are you brave, or are you mad?'

'I would like to say 'brave,' but it seems to be incorrect,' Richard said, and touched his bright cheek. 'Who are you?'

'Other than a damsel in distress? My name is Alec.'

'Alec,' Richard said.

'Yes,' he said, and bowed shallowly. 'And you, my brave champion?'

'Richard St Vier.'

'Ah!' Alec's eyebrows rose. 'I've heard of you. I could not have found a better champion.'

'Perhaps not,' Richard said, 'though many would have taken on your case. For a payment.'

'You've had your payment now, haven't you?' Alec said, and squeezed Richard's shoulder again.

Richard nodded. 'Just so.'

'Though I don't suppose we'll meet again if we part this way.' Alec kissed him again, and though he had been speaking lightly, the kiss was maddening and rich. 'Will we?'

'If you provoke people very often the way you did this evening, then no.' Richard shook his head.

Alec laughed again. 'Sometimes, but rarely when I have some form of distraction.'

'Distraction?' Richard asked.

Alec kissed him again, harder. 'You are a swordsman, aren't you?'

'As you know well enough.'

'Then you ought to know what value there is in every passing moment.' Alec's smile demanded another kiss, and Richard could not help but give it to him.

'Too much to spend them standing in the street.' Richard pulled away from him and felt the chill air between them far more strongly than he had before. 'Come home with me.'

'If you insist,' Alec said, but his smile was far more assured than his tone.

By the time they reached Richard's room, the flush had gone from Alec's cheeks, though another brisk kiss brought it back. The bed was narrow for two, though Alec was far more rangy than wide. It took some negotiation to work out where their knees ought to go, and which side of the bed would be whose for the duration.

In the midst of a storm of kisses, Alec's eyes grew bright and his laughter softer, as if he had sheathed the daggers of sarcasm in order to be close to Richard. 'You make love like a man with all the time in the world,' Alec said, and it seemed like a critique of his ardor.

'Rushing would be a waste,' Richard said, and unfastened Alec's clothing deftly to caress him until he gasped.

'That depends on -- oh -- on what you can accomplish quickly.' Alec kissed him again and opened his trousers to stroke him in return. His fingers bore no calluses -- a scholar's, or some other man of leisure's.

Richard tugged off his own shirt and Alec did likewise. The heat of their skin when they touched made Alec sigh. Richard gathered him close and mouthed his neck, wondering briefly whether Alec's demeanor was one of a man who sold himself. He was not so smooth, though he was hardly clumsy. The morality of selling one's body was not a question that bothered Richard particularly, but he did like to know where his money was going.

'You feel splendid,' Alec says. The way he relaxed under Richard's hands was flattering, and he spread his legs a little, sighing. 'Don't stop. Don't ever stop.'

Richard kissed him again. 'You ask so little.' He pulled away and Alec whimpered.

'What --'

'A moment,' Richard said, and found the bottle of olive oil he kept under his bed for occasions like this one.

'Oh,' Alec said. 'I see.' He lounged back, his dark hair accenting his pale skin and outlining him against Richard's bedclothes.

Richard wet his fingers and stroked Alec, gently, then more firmly when it made him moan and rock into the touch. 'You're so fearless.'

'And yet you are the swordsman, while I am only me.' Alec arched up to kiss him.

'Only you is quite satisfactory, at the moment,' Richard assured him, and slicked himself. 'You are beautiful.'

'What are you waiting for?' Alec said, his voice half a groan. 'Please. It's like waiting to take a breath.'

Richard nibbled his ear. 'Every moment counts.'

'Every moment is torture,' Alec complained, and he reached for Richard again.

'All right,' Richard said, and entered him slowly.

Alec whimpered and wrapped one of his long legs around Richard's waist. 'Oh, that's perfect, yes.'

Richard had to agree, though he could not quite speak. It took a moment to control his breathing enough to say, 'Yes.' He squeezed Alec's thigh, then stroked his erection. When Alec tensed and shuddered, the feeling made him groan.

'Oh,' Alec said, again, and again. 'Oh, yes, Richard.'

Richard groaned and pressed into him. They moaned together. It was slick and tense, and the way Alec's body felt spread heat all through him. 'Wonderful,' Richard said against Alec's shoulder, and stroked him faster.

Alec twisted under him and made him shudder. 'Yes. You are, you truly are. Oh, harder.' He seemed too fragile to take it, but the way he bent and shivered with Richard's thrusts made his wiry strength clear. It made Richard cling to him and fight against climax until Alec's breathing went ragged and he shouted with his pleasure.

'Ever so beautiful,' Richard said, and he groaned against Alec's shoulder, letting himself sink into the man's body one last time and giving in to the tension of need, which raced through him and left him gasping in its wake.

'I've never had a swordsman before,' Alec said when he had caught his breath.

'No?'

'No. But you've made me think I might like to try it again.'

Richard raised an eyebrow. 'There are many of us in the city.'

Alec patted his hip. 'That is not at all what I meant. Move over a bit?'

Richard found him a handkerchief. They lay together, not long enough, before a bell chimed the hour out in the city. Richard kissed Alec's hair and said, 'I need to meet a client.'

'At this hour?'

'Soon, yes.' He sat up and ran his hand down the long length of Alec's back. 'Will you be here when I return?'

'Perhaps,' Alec said.

Richard nodded and got out of bed, reaching for his clothes. 'Then perhaps we shall meet again.'

Alec tucked his hands behind his head and smiled at Richard. 'I look forward to it.'

 


End file.
